


Each Word is a Love Song

by hvanwoong



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Anniversary, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:01:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25754776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hvanwoong/pseuds/hvanwoong
Summary: ‘You shouldn’t be so romantic,’ murmurs Hwanwoong as he lets the rose petals flutter between his fingers back down onto the bed. ‘You make me look bad.’Youngjo laughs and wraps his arms around Hwanwoong’s waist, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. ‘Well we all have our own charms.’
Relationships: Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Yeo Hwanwoong
Comments: 16
Kudos: 131





	Each Word is a Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all <3 I know this is my second time posting today but I was feeling a little sad so I wrote this, this evening. I haven't proofread it so please forgive all the typos that will come your way. Love. x

‘You shouldn’t be so romantic,’ murmurs Hwanwoong as he lets the rose petals flutter between his fingers back down onto the bed. ‘You make me look bad.’

Everything in the dorm has been arranged by Youngjo with the utmost care, from the meal that awaited Hwanwoong once he got back from his visit to the dance studio, to the champagne bottle that he almost cracked a window popping open, to the polaroid pictures of all of their first dates together strung up on pink string around the living room, and all the way to the red rose petals that cover Youngjo’s bed. Meanwhile, for this their second anniversary together, Hwanwoong has bought Youngjo a small gift that he’s now hidden under his bed because it’s too embarrassing to share by comparison.

‘We all have our own charms,’ laughs Youngjo. He wraps his arms around Hwanwoong’s waist and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

‘What’s mine?’

‘What’s yours?’ Youngjo’s lips curve on the skin. ‘Yours is the way you make me wonder how much life can possibly fit into one person. Yours is the way you can make anyone feel like the centre of your universe but at the same time your heart is big enough for everyone. _Yours_ is the way that you make me feel lucky to have you, but at the same time you make me feel like you’re lucky to have me.’

The words are a gentle caress, and Hwanwoong knows that he’s spoiled by them but there’s nothing wrong with a little emotional pampering every once in a while. Besides, it’s one of the perks of dating a lyricist. And it’s only fair, because Youngjo gets to enjoy the benefits of dating a _dancer_ when they’re in the bedroom.

‘See this is what I’m talking about,’ he says with a soft laugh, ‘you’re too romantic. There’s nothing I can say back to that.’

Youngjo turns him around in his arms and rests his hands down onto his hips. With a deft brush of his thumbs he lifts his blue tee so that he can stroke his warm skin. ‘you don’t have to say anything.’

Their lips brush together in ghosted kisses. Youngjo slides one hand around to rest at the dimple of his lower back and pulls him close against his body, as the other pushes his shirt up further and strokes over his taut dancer’s waist and delicate ribs that just show through when he presses the skin. Hwanwoong lets his head roll back because it’s Youngjo who will lean down and cover all the space between them, pressing his lips to his with a restrained sort of passion. Hwanwoong’s back curves until they’re poised together like a crescent moon.

The touch of Youngjo’s lips is so soft, like the velvety rose petals. Whenever he’s nervous, Hwanwoong bites his own lips, so he’s sure that his don’t feel the same, but Youngjo has never mentioned it – never complained. He parts Hwanwoong’s lips with a soft breath and touches his tongue against his. Every motion is slow and measured and the sensation sends sparks fluttering through Hwanwoong’s navel.

Since their first date, Youngjo has always been able to make him feel like he’s floating. It’s the same nervous energy as before they go on stage, less fear and more excitement.

As the kiss deepens, Hwanwoong closes his fingers on the front of Youngjo’s shirt and pulls him back towards the bed. Youngjo’s is the only double bed in the dorm, a relief, and Hwanwoong knows that his boyfriend sent all of the other members away for the evening. Not only that, but Youngjo has dressed for the occasion too, in a white button-up shirt and a black blazer that Hwanwoong pushes from his shoulders while they’re still attached at the lips.

‘What if I do want to say something?’ he whispers as he breaks away.

Youngjo is halfway to stealing another kiss before he cocks his head to the side. ‘Tell me.’

‘I love you,’ says Hwanwoong. It’s not poetry, and it’s nothing that he hasn’t heard before, but he strokes his tongue around the words and speaks them like a love song, and Youngjo kisses him again. This time, the kiss is so delicate that Hwanwoong feels a tingle on his lips that begs for more.

‘Can I?’ asks Youngjo, and he closes his fingers around the hem of Hwanwoong’s shirt.

‘Of course,’ Hwanwoong rolls his eyes.

Every time, Youngjo asks. He pulls the shirt up over Hwanwoong’s head and places it aside more gently than Hwanwoong threw his jacket away. The room is warm and toasty, but Hwanwoong feels a shiver under his boyfriend’s gaze. Youngjo looks all over him, and then lowers his head to kiss the soft join of Hwanwoong’s throat and shoulder. His lips brush down over his collarbone and his fingertips trace the same lines that his lips have just walked. ‘So beautiful,’ he whispers.

It’s such a simple word but Hwanwoong bathes in it. Before starting to see Youngjo, he’d often felt insecure about his body. His height meant that he didn’t always have the lithe proportions of some of the other trainees back when he was competing for spots, and he spent hours looking in the mirror prodding at his face and messing with his hair to try to look more like some of his favourite idols. Then, Youngjo scooped him up and made him feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

Without even realising it, Hwanwoong has dropped down onto the bed and Youngjo kneels down in front of him, between his parted legs. It’s not a sexual position, but one that allows Hwanwoong to run his hands through Youngjo’s dark hair and cup his cheek tenderly. Youngjo turns his face into his hand, and Hwanwoong leans forward to kiss his head. The scent of his citrus shampoo is everywhere.

‘Promise me that no one is going to interrupt us?’ he says.

‘Cross my heart,’ answers Youngjo, ‘I’ve threatened them all.’

With a wry smile, Hwanwoong starts to unbutton Youngjo’s shirt and pulls him back up by the collar. Grinning too, Youngjo pushes him down onto his back and Hwanwoong shuffles back until his body is squarely on the bed before allowing his boyfriend to crawl over him and pepper kisses across his cheek and his neck. He lets out a gasp as Youngjo’s fingertips brush over his chest and linger on his nipples. As if Youngjo doesn’t know that he’s sensitive there…

‘Make that sound again,’ whispers Youngjo, and he thumbs over his left nipple with more intent until Hwanwoong gasps again and something knots in his abdomen. ‘Pretty sounds,’ he says, and he kisses down his chest until he can roll his tongue gently over one nub. Hwanwoong’s back arches and he feels his cock start to ache against his tight jeans.

The white shirt is still half around Youngjo’s arms, so Hwanwoong tries to push it the rest of the way down but it’s difficult when his intentions are punctuated by squirms of pleasure as Youngjo works his tongue. When he gets rid of it, he knots his fingers into Youngjo’s hair and pulls him back just a little. ‘Please, hyung,’ he mumbles, and Youngjo smiles as he touches his belt.

He undresses him like a present that he’s longed to open for the weeks that it has sat ready and wrapped for him but that he must _savour_. Although his movements are quick, they are always precise and delicate. He pulls loose his belt and unbuttons his jeans before sliding them down over his hips and Hwanwoong sighs in relief as the pressure is relieved from his hardening cock.

He has to help, of course, because such a silhouette does not come without some _very_ tight jeans and he has to kick them off with a wriggle that makes Youngjo laugh a laugh of such love it makes his heart ache. As if to spare him the embarrassment, though, Youngjo takes off the rest of his clothes instead of watching, and then crawls back over him and brushes the bangs from Hwanwoong’s forehead so that he can take in all of his face.

‘I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you before, baby Woong,’ he says. ‘Like the sun’s rays spill down just for you.’

‘One day I won’t be able to get my head through the door because you’ll have inflated it so much,’ he murmurs. ‘A good boyfriend can be _very_ dangerous for one’s ego.’

Youngjo smiles. ‘Every word I’ve ever told you is true. Do with that what you will.’

Hwanwoong supposes that if anyone is liable to exaggerate, then it is a partner, but somehow the words never sound like pretty lies from Youngjo; they all sound like fierce honesty. He can’t imagine Youngjo ever lying to him. He lets his eyes flutter closed and he feels the weight of Youngjo’s gaze on his face for a moment longer before the kisses resume down his chest and this time to his navel, and then to the delicate line of fine hair leading down from his belly button.

His breath hitches when Youngjo presses a kiss to his hard length through the thin material of his briefs, and he closes his fingers on the soft cotton sheets. This bed has as much of Hwanwoong in it as it does Youngjo; _he_ chose the pillows because he wanted squashier ones, and _he_ bought the soft grey blanket that they keep thrown over the end.

He feels the wetness start to dampen the front of his briefs and he lets out a whimper as Youngjo touches his tongue to the wet fabric and the heat passes straight through. Youngjo never makes him wait, though, and soon enough he pulls down the last of the barrier between them and brushes his fingers over his hardening arousal.

‘You make me feel like the most powerful man alive,’ whispers Youngjo and his breath is hot all over the tender skin, ‘knowing that I get to do this to you. Knowing how I can make you feel.’

‘Like I’m floating,’ mumbles Hwanwoong.

Youngjo licks a strip from the base of his cock up to the swollen head and Hwanwoong lets out a cry as sensation explodes in his nerve-endings. He props himself on one elbow so that he can look at Youngjo, but that makes the arousal worse, because the way that his hair falls over his dark eyes, and his hand wraps possessively around his cock, and his lips wrap around the tip as he lowers his head down –

It’s all too much.

Hwanwoong’s navel feels like it’s on fire. Sweat starts to sheen the base of his throat and he throws his head back again, down into the pillows. Youngjo flattens his tongue and he sinks all the way down onto Hwanwoong’s cock until he feels the constricting of his throat and low moans spill over his lips. Hwanwoong’s hips jolt up involuntarily but Youngjo doesn’t pull off. Instead he rings the base of his cock with tight fingers and holds himself there for a moment more before he lifts back with a gagging sound that makes Hwanwoong’s abdomen flip right over.

‘Fuck, Youngjo,’ he whimpers.

Youngjo runs his thumb and forefinger over the reddish-pink tip of his cock and collects precome on his fingertips before fisting his length twice with rough friction.

‘Youngjo, Jo - ’ he mumbles until Youngjo stops and looks up at him with wide eyes.

‘Are you okay?’ he says softly, and there’s worry all over his voice. He sits up and releases him in a second, like he’s ready to wrap him up tight in the blanket and ask him what is wrong.

‘Don’t want to come yet,’ whines Hwanwoong, more than a little embarrassed. His terrible refractory period is no secret to Youngjo.

Youngjo laughs in relief and climbs off the bed for a second to kick off his own boxers. As he leans over to the nightstand for lube, Hwanwoong has the chance to admire his body. Firm arms and stretching muscles, because he’s been going to the gym recently, and his eyes settle on his hard cock, a little larger than average and leaking for Hwanwoong even though he hasn’t been touched yet. ‘God, I love you.’

Hwanwoong settles back amongst the pillows and runs his hands over the rose petals on the bed. He hums happily and parts his legs when he feels the mattress depress again and Youngjo strokes his hands all the way from his ankles up past his knees. He closes his large hands on his thighs, and brushes his thumbs on the tender skin. Perhaps Hwanwoong is being spoiled again, but Youngjo is always the one who does the physical _loving_. He likes to give and Hwanwoong likes to receive affection and that’s always been how it works.

Youngjo lowers his head and presses gentle kisses to his inner thigh, and Hwanwoong feels his legs start to close but Youngjo is between them and he nips at the soft skin with his teeth. Another moan runs from his lips, and Youngjo lets his tongue touch over the tiny marks that he’s made.

‘Can I touch you?’ Youngjo murmurs, and Hwanwoong knows what he means.

He nods and takes a few steadying breaths before closing his eyes. Youngjo’s finger strokes around his rim, spreading lubricant there, and Hwanwoong spreads his legs further before shifting his hips to allow him better access. He holds his breath for a second before exhaling while Youngjo presses the first finger past his entrance and turns the pad to work him a little open.

Their schedule and their living arrangements mean that they rarely get to do this. Hwanwoong feels as tight as he did the first time, and he bites his lip hard at the slight sting before his body adjusts. Youngjo kisses his thigh again and sucks a little purple mark there that distracts him as he slides his second finger past his rim and spreads his fingers slightly.

Nonetheless, Hwanwoong lets out a sound out through his teeth and wraps a hand around his cock to keep himself hard and flood his mind with sparks instead. As the light pain turns to pleasure, he lets his body sink down around Youngjo’s fingers and Youngjo breathes a happy sigh. ‘So good baby,’ he exhales, ‘the way you take my fingers.’

It’s so rare to hear anything kind of dirty from Youngjo’s lips that Hwanwoong feels his cock respond in his hand. A throaty sound chokes from inside him when Youngjo enters a third finger, and he jerks at his cock again. He knows it will be worth it once he has Youngjo inside him.

His muscles clench for a moment but being here with Youngjo is enough to relax him.

‘Beautiful,’ says Youngjo again, and then in a flash his fingers are gone and this time Hwanwoong whimpers at the _loss_.

Then, though, Youngjo’s lips are on his and the kiss is so full of love that for a second he forgets all about the sex. He grazes his nails down Youngjo’s back and closes his eyes to the sensuality as Youngjo strokes his lips and his mouth with his tongue and then touches a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips.

‘Love you.’

‘Love you more,’ mumbles Hwanwoong.

Youngjo sits back and slicks his cock with deft fingers as Hwanwoong watches. A thread connects their bodies and their minds, and the slightest movement from one triggers a change in the other. Their eyes meet and Hwanwoong feels goosebumps on his skin because he cannot imagine anyone else ever looking at him the way that Youngjo does, ever again.

‘I got you, baby,’ murmurs Youngjo, and he lifts Hwanwoong’s hips slightly as he angles close to his hole and rubs the tip of his cock around his rim. He needn’t have worried himself with the words, because Hwanwoong feels more relaxed now, but still he accepts them like sweet comfort. When he slides inside slowly, Hwanwoong lets out a long breath and grips his fingers on Youngjo’s biceps.

Youngjo gives him so long to adjust that he might as well be cock-warming him, but then after a minute he rocks his hips gently and sinks deeper. The stretch is sweet and more than his fingers could ever offer. Hwanwoong tightens his grip and pants as arousal knots and knots in his navel. When Youngjo brushes against his sweet-spot, he moans and digs in his nails.

‘Right there,’ he chokes.

Youngjo steadies himself, palms flat on the mattress, and pushes back with more intent. This time, Hwanwoong’s noises grow louder. He throws one arm back to cover his eyes and feels that his forehead is damp with sweat. The room is so hot and heavy that the very air he breathes feels soaked with them. He’s shunted up the bed as Youngjo quickens his thrusts and he can hear the way that his breathing is becoming more and more rapid.

Hwanwoong’s muscles clench and Youngjo lets out a groan of pleasure. He places one hand on Hwanwoong’s abdomen to hold him in position as he fucks back inside him, and gentleness is replaced by need. With every thrust, higher moans escape Hwanwoong’s throat and he finds Youngjo’s hand on his tummy to hold it tight and lace their fingers together.

‘Hwanwoong – Woong - ’ Youngjo’s words are stuttering, and with Hwanwoong’s walls tight around him, it’s clear that he’s not going to last long.

‘You make me feel so good,’ pants Hwanwoong, feeding into his boyfriend’s penchant for praise. ‘Fuck, Youngjo.’

As Youngjo grazes his prostate again, once – twice – Hwanwoong wraps his fingers around his cock and starts to jerk himself. He tries to keep with Youngjo’s rhythm but Youngjo’s hips are starting to stutter with the need for release. Gasps and sighs and moans are the only sounds in the empty dorm, and Hwanwoong thinks that this must be what freedom feels like. Once again, he feels like he’s floating.

Youngjo comes with a moan of Hwanwoong’s name, snapping his hips against his ass and squeezing his hand so tight that his fingers hurt. He spills inside him, Hwanwoong’s name chasing from his lips over and over. ‘Woong – baby – love - ’ Every pet-name spills out, and the feeling of heat on his walls knocks Hwanwoong over the precipice.

He cries out, unabashedly loud now, and white stripes of come paint his taut stomach. As he jerks himself with a tired wrist, Youngjo pulls out and stretches up to kiss him again. ‘Hyung, Jo,’ Hwanwoong mumbles into his lips, like he can’t remember any other words.

‘I love you,’ whispers Youngjo again. His voice is shaking, with relief and exertion.

Hwanwoong feels his muscles clench around nothing, and he rolls onto his side as he feels a trickle of heat on his thigh. _Yuck_ , is his first thought, and that makes a soft giggle burst from his lips.

‘What?’ breathes Youngjo as he lays down on his side too and looks deep into Hwanwoong’s eyes.

‘Nothing,’ smiles Hwanwoong, not eager to spoil the romantic atmosphere by saying something gross. He leans forward to kiss the end of Youngjo’s nose. ‘I love you too.’

For a moment, there’s no sound, and then Youngjo whispers. ‘We should get cleaned up. If I could have taken you to a hotel, I’d run us a hot bath and we could have taken the rose petals with us.’

‘You’ve done enough,’ says Hwanwoong, with total honesty.

After a little more silence, he opens his mouth again.

‘My present for you is going to be rubbish in comparison.’

Youngjo props himself up and gives him a look of great offence. ‘Baby, nothing you could give me would ever be anything less than perfect. Give it to me now.’

‘No, your hands are all icky,’ mumbles Hwanwoong. Trying to play it off as not a big deal, he sighs and meets Youngjo’s eyes again. They’re dark and warm and full of love and he hesitates for a second, because it’s easy to get lost in them. ‘It’s just a necklace.’

‘What sort of necklace?’ smiles Youngjo. ‘Tell me all about it until I get to touch it.’

Hwanwoong thinks of the black box and the velvety fabric inside that protects the chain. ‘It’s silver, in a black box. The chain is really delicate, and on the end there’s an elegant little star. Because that’s you.’

‘Me?’ Youngjo brushes the backs of his fingers across Hwanwoong’s cheek.

‘The fans are our moons, and you’re my star.’

There is a second in which Youngjo doesn’t seem to know what to say, and then he pulls Hwanwoong close to him, their bodies sticking with sweat, and presses a long kiss to his forehead. ‘I love you,’ he says, again. ‘I love you and I love your gift even if I haven’t seen it yet.’

Since they are both a mess, Hwanwoong sighs and snuggles in against Youngjo’s chest. He breathes him in and nuzzles his face against his skin, reminding himself that for this moment, they are together, and they are alone. ‘You really like it?’ he mumbles, even though it’s a ridiculous question when Youngjo hasn’t even held it yet.

‘It’s perfect. You’re perfect.’

Every word is a love song, and Hwanwoong drinks them in like the sun that Youngjo swears shines only for him.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/hvanwoong)


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